


Seven of Wands

by PostcardsfromTheoryland



Series: April Tarot Card Prompts [15]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blade of Marmora Missions, Blood and Gore, Keith Is Not Having A Good Time, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23680309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostcardsfromTheoryland/pseuds/PostcardsfromTheoryland
Summary: The Seven of Wands: Protection, defense, courageThe bombs blew up early, there's several hundred pounds of caved in ceiling on top of him, and an angry Galra Warlord is pointing a blaster in his face. So all in all, Keith's not having a good day.
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: April Tarot Card Prompts [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686346
Comments: 14
Kudos: 91





	Seven of Wands

**Author's Note:**

> This is also the "Pinned down by wreckage" square for my Bad Things Happen Bingo board.

Keith _hurts_.

Something had gone wrong with the bombs, and they’d detonated ten dobashes before they’d been programmed to. At the time, Keith had been in the control room, having just finished downloading the files they needed off of the system, pleasantly surprised that everything had been going well so far.

And then he’d woken up, facedown halfway across the room, with most of the ceiling on top of him.

It’s agony. His right leg is broken for sure, and there is - he feels nauseated just thinking about it - some kind of metal shrapnel _through_ his left leg, pinning him to the ground like one of those butterfly specimens in a museum.. Keith would ordinarily be much more concerned about that, but at the moment it’s a bit of a moot point since part of a support column is also laying across the back of both of his legs, and it’s too heavy for him to push off. He’s tried. He’s stuck six ways from Sunday.

This...is not good.

The band on his wrist chooses that moment to give a helpful little buzz. Time’s up, and the team has left without him. Mission over the individual, and Keith had already transmitted the data to Ilun so she has no reason to come back for him.

He’s going to die, alone in the rubble of a Galra base. The only question now is whether he’ll bleed out, or if the metal embedded in his leg is a tight enough seal that he’ll live long enough to die of dehydration. He’s allowed to be morbid, he thinks, given the situation.

And then, because of course they do, things go from bad to worse as Warlord Vorte stalks into the room.

Fucking hell. All that work for nothing, because the bombs were supposed to take him out along with the base. It’s a consolation, Keith supposes, that Vorte’s entire left side is badly burnt, but a meager one. His hand reaches for his knife - he should _just_ be able to reach it at this angle, and he’s not going to go down without a fight - but he just grasps empty air. Because, like an _idiot_ , he’d been twirling it around his fingers while waiting for the data to download. He can see it, about four feet away, just out of reach.

Vorte pulls him up by the hood of his suit, yanking his upper body upright in a way that makes everything scream in more pain, and his mask flickers out of existence.

“Pitiful halfbreed,” Vorte growls at him, slamming him back down onto the ground with enough force that Keith’s vision whites out for a moment. When things come back into focus, the muzzle of Vorte’s gun is pointed directly between Keith’s eyes.

So he isn’t going to die from blood loss or dehydration, then. It will be option three: blaster to the face.

“Vrept-” He’s cut off in a way that would be comical in any other situation as something slams into Vorte’s side. Keith thinks for a wild moment that it’s Kolivan coming back for him after all, but that doesn’t make any sense, because Kolivan wasn’t even on this mission and anyway the shape is too small, too light-colored to be Kolivan.

There’s a fight then, and it’s hard to follow, because Keith is dizzy and there’s nausea rising in his throat and most of the lights got knocked out in the explosion. But then he’s even more confused, because there’s a glow of purple that he recognizes, but how the hell…?

The fight (scuffle, really) is over in only a few moments, and then _Shiro_ is rushing over to his side, a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m here,” he says, as if it’s a habit for Shiro to suddenly appear on Blade missions like an avenging angel. “Give me a rundown, what are we dealing with?”

“Legs are messed up, and the beam is heavy. I don’t feel anything else but I’ve been sort of preoccupied, so…” Shiro just nods and gets to work. “Are the others here, too?” Keith asks in bewilderment, but also to distract himself from Shiro’s attempts to shift the pillar off of him because _ow_.

“No, it’s just me, I was coming back from a meeting with the Cest’xopru in this sector when Black started freaking out and took us down to the surface. God, I just happened to be in the sector, I wasn’t even supposed to have that meeting until tomorrow but we moved it up, I don’t even want to think about how lucky that was…” Shiro is babbling, which he only does when he’s panicking about something, which doesn’t particularly bode well for Keith.

“Shiro.”

“Right, ok. Head down for a second,” he says, and then mercifully the beam is lifted off of him, over his head, and dropped to the side. Keith is confused for a moment about why Shiro went that direction with it, until he looks back and realizes the metal rod in his leg is _much_ larger than he’d thought it was. Shiro notices his distress, a hand running briefly through Keith’s hair, before he shifts over to get a good look at it. “It’s...ok, this isn’t going to be pretty,” Shiro finally says, and Keith snorts at the bluntness.

“Nothing about this has been pretty.”

“Right. Well, the metal is...still attached to the floor. Looks like maybe what used to be the support for the control panel, and you landed right on top of it, which means unless we want to take part of the floor with us back to the castle, I’m going to need to remove it.”

“Won’t I…?”

“Keith, I’m sorry, I’m going to need to...I’m going to cauterize it.”

“Fuck.”

It startles a laugh out of Shiro, who’s too concerned with their current predicament to call him out for swearing. He picks up Keith’s knife and cuts away his suit below the knee, carefully replacing the blade into its sheath. Then there’s the sound of Shiro’s hand thrumming to life, and Keith braces himself, but Shiro is just shearing off the metal sticking out above his leg. “Alright, I’m going to sort of lift you off of it,” he explains hesitantly, “and then do it, and then we’ll be done.”

Keith nods grimly and tries to steel himself, but he still whimpers at the feeling of metal sliding back through his leg, and then screams when Shiro starts burning the flesh of the open wound. It’s blinding pain, and Keith knows it’s necessary or he won’t last long enough to get actual medical treatment, but he hates Shiro in that moment, just a little bit. There’s a tiny reprieve when Shiro’s finished with the back of his leg, helping Keith turn onto his side so he can reach the front. The second time is almost worse, for having the brief moment to rest, and by the time Shiro’s done, the pain and nausea and fear are too much and Keith is curled into a ball on the dusty floor, sobbing and trying not to throw up.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, shit, Keith, it’s ok. It’s over, you did so good, it’s ok.” Shiro pulls him in, letting Keith rest against his shoulder and shake through the pain and the adrenaline for a few minutes. Keith wants more time, wants an hour or two to just lie here and learn how to breathe again, but a groaning of metal from the next room over reminds them that the building is still unstable. No need to add insult to injury and get buried twice in one mission.

Shiro doesn’t even bother to ask if he can stand on his own, tucking one arm under Keith’s knees and the other around his back and then standing up with much more grace than Keith thinks should be possible.

“Do you mind if I take you back to the Castle instead of the Blade?” Shiro asks as he jogs through the ruined hallways, jostling Keith a bit despite his attempts to be gentle. “I’m not sure I really trust Kolivan with you right now, considering how I found you.”

“Altean healing technology’s better anyways,” Keith agrees, not wanting to deal with the fact that he got left behind on a mission, _again_. Victory or death, and in this case it’s only the former due to a fluke schedule change on Shiro’s part.

It isn’t a particularly nice feeling, knowing you were considered expendable.


End file.
